Eventide
by Zelda Ophelia
Summary: Danny/Lindsay. Flack/Angell.The problem with dating a fellow detective is that you both rarely had the same work schedule. A night out for two sets of detectives. Set between The Box and Rush to Judgment.


**Author's Note: **Set between _The Box_ and _Rush to Judgement_.

::

The problem with dating a fellow detective is that you both rarely had the same work schedule, Danny thought to himself as he quickly changed in the locker room at work. Nights that both he and Lindsay were off were a rare, once in a blue moon occurrence. Tonight they almost didn't even have that much. The case he and Angell were working had taken a last minute twist. Granted it had been for the better - and solved - but it was hard to justify running off to a date when your suspect was singing like a bird down in interrogation room 3.

Come to think of it, Angell looked pretty relieved to get out of there as well.

He pulled his jacket on over a t-shirt, hoping that this would pass muster. Dressing up wasn't really his style, not unless he was going to be in court. And right now he sure hoped Flack was gone for the day, considering all the crap he'd give him over his suits and ties. Well, mostly the ties. Tonight he and Montana had reservations at one of the hottest restaurants in the city - and it had a jacket requirement. Danny had asked her, back when they had first started dating and she was new to the city, to name some restaurants she'd always wanted to try. He'd balked when this was at the top of her list. However, they probably weren't going to be able to have a night like this again for a while. Not until after the baby came and they had sitters lined up.

Regardless, the look on her face when he told her he'd gotten reservations for them at a 4-star restaurant had been worth everything. He hadn't told her where - he hadn't told anyone where they were going, lest the rumor mill get back to her - this was supposed to be a surprise. She had told him that she was taking Stella shopping for a new dress, which he couldn't see until he came to pick her up. He was just glad he had enough time to get over there and get her to make their reservation.

::

He knocked on her door again. Jess had called him from the station to let him know she was on her way home, later than they had originally planned. Somehow Ross had managed to fish out a link between her case and an older case - which had the same top suspect as theirs. When confronted said suspect had given up the ghost, she'd explained, telling them everything they ever wanted - and hadn't wanted - to know. She had given him her spare key when they realized she'd be running late. He could hear the shower down the hall, in the en suite, when he let himself in. She must not have been home long. He draped his jacket over a chair before heading back to check on her. The shower stopped as he approached and he could hear the characteristic sound of the shower door rolling open just before he rapped lightly on the bathroom door.

"Jess?"

"Hey," the door opened and Jessica Angell peeked out at him. "You got here."

"Of course I did. I'm not the one running late." He grinned at her through the open door. Her dark hair was sopping wet, with tendrils of water trailing down her neck and bare shoulders to run under the navy towel she had wrapped around herself. He drew his gaze back up to catch her eyes, and the eyeroll she graced him with. "You need anything?"

"Just for you to leave me alone long enough to get dressed."

"I could give you a hand..."

"And then we'd never make our reservations."

"You have a point." Don quirked his eyebrows at her, then opened the bathroom door open far enough to lean in and kiss her softly. "I'll be in the living room."

He liked her place, it was comfortable - not fussy - with some magazines on the coffee table, an overstuffed sofa opposite the TV and a bookcase that held as many DVDs as books. The kitchen was on the other side of the living room. Don had been by her apartment enough to know that glasses were in one of the cabinets by the sink, and that he never wanted to try to cook here. It was probably just was well that she rarely cooked - and if she did it was heating a can of soup - since her efficiency kitchen was smaller than a postage stamp. He headed back there first for a glass of water before grabbing a magazine to flip through while he waited.

The bedroom door opened as he finished reading a pointless article about some movie star's life. Looking up he saw her step into the room, the knee-length skirt of her deep maroon dress flowing around her legs as she walked. "Hey, you clean up pretty good."

She laughed as he stood and joined her, then shivered as he ran his hands down her bare arms. "Thank you. You don't look half bad yourself, Detective."

"Mmm-hmm. You know," he said in a low voice, breath light against her ear, "we could stay in tonight, instead."

"Really? Because I'm pretty certain that someone promised me food that was better than anything I'd ever tasted before." She smoothed her hands over his lapel, leaning into him. "Which, considering his cooking, is a pretty tall order."

"Is that so?" Don said, pretending to stop and think. "Well, I do know of a great place. And, come to think of it, they just might have a table for two just for us. We'll have to leave now if we're going to make it."

"Lead on, then."

::

"That dress is incredible," he said as he opened the door for her. She looked amazing in that shade of green. Not that she didn't always look amazing, but she had this glow about her tonight. A happy glow. And he was pleased to be the one who put that smile on her face.

"Thank you," Lindsay said as she slipped her arm through his while they entered. "And you are incredible. Thank you for bringing me here. This is... like a dream come true to be able to come here."

There was a small waiting area just inside, that was occupied by a few people but had even fewer chairs. It would be a few minutes, the hostess explained to him when he approached to give her his name, for the previous party to finish up and their table to be prepared for them. When Danny turned back to Lindsay, it was to see that two other customers were talking with her. They had stood so that she could have a seat, which, Danny quickly decided, made them okay in his book. When he joined them, they introduced themselves as Adam and Craig. They quickly had Danny and Lindsay - and a few of the others waiting - well amused with their anecdotes about film school, the indy movies they'd seen lately and the show they'd just gotten tickets for. Danny had a feeling they weren't just an 'NYU film student and his boyfriend'. And he had a feeling Lindsay knew just exactly who those guys were by the way she kept squeezing his hand and grinning at him like he'd just made her night when they hadn't even eaten yet.

He didn't mind getting credit for it. He just hoped she'd let him in on the secret later.

Their name was called just as the door opened behind them. As they were led to their booth, he caught a glimpse of a tall and dark-haired couple from the corner of his eye. Then they were at their table, which was tucked away up in the second tier in a cozy corner that they seemed to have just to themselves. He'd read about this on the restaurant's website, how the floor plan was set up for greater intimacy, but now - looking through the tall windows in front of their table out at the small park across the street - he had a much better appreciation of it. He had his Montana all to himself and he was going to enjoy every minute of it.

::

"Was that really-" she asked peering at the couple that had just been taken upstairs, presumably to their table.

"It could have been," he said as he followed her gaze. "I know Danny has been talking for weeks about how he was going to surprise Monroe with a fancy dinner. He never mentioned where he was taking her, though."

"She and Stella went dress shopping yesterday," Jess said. "They invited Kaile and I to go, but we were both scheduled to work."

"Yeah?" He asked her with a grin. "Because I'm pretty sure that dress is new."

"This ol' thing?" They both laughed, drawing glances from the other people surrounding them. She became more serious then, glancing back in the direction they had seen Danny and Lindsay. "Do you think they-?"

Don knew exactly what she was asking, the question of whether or not they'd been seen. It was something that had been on their minds more lately, as they had gotten more serious about _this_ and each other. So far they hadn't told any of their friends or colleagues about their relationship. Although he was pretty certain Danny had figured out that he was seeing someone. And Jess had mentioned that Maka had been asking her who she was dating. Considering where they worked and who they worked with, they were both fairly surprised that no one had put two and two together. But they were also relieved at the same time. If news about their relationship was going to come out, they had both agreed that they wanted it to come out when and how they wanted it to.

And it wasn't like there weren't things they needed to consider. They may not officially be partners, but they had worked together on cases in the past and would likely do so again in the future. Not to mention that as the more senior officer he could be considered her superior. They both understood what that could mean for her if others found out about their relationship when she was up for promotion.

Plus, it was just nice to keep it to themselves.

"Nah," he said, leaning back against the wall by the door and slipping his arm around her. "Their backs were to us the whole time." He paused before continuing, "I can talk to Messer tomorrow, feel him out and see if he says anything."

"You know," she said quietly as she entwined her fingers with his. "Of all the people we work with, they'd understand our situation best. Why we haven't been telling people about us and have been trying to keep it quiet." She looked up at him and grinned. "Not that I don't like the sneaking around, it is kind of fun, but it'd be nice to not have to avoid getting caught."

"We could tell them," he said as nonchalantly as possible. This was the last place he would have ever expected to have this conversation. Each time they'd discussed it they had come closer and closer to deciding that maybe they should start telling their friends. She was right. It would be nice to not have to dodge colleagues while out on dates.

"Yeah, maybe we could." Jess smiled at him. It was a happy and relieved smile, nothing like tight, stressed, forced smiles they'd had for each other the first time this had come up - when they nearly ran into Dr. Parsons out on a date - and were trying to put on a brave face that something they were not yet ready to define just might already gotten out. But now they knew where they stood with each other, that it wasn't just some fling.

Yeah, it would be nice to be able to tell people about them.

::

"This is really good." Danny pointed at the soup with his spoon as he spoke. He'd admit it. He'd been expecting waiters so starched and uptight they could turn coal to diamond, food so artistic that it wasn't recognizable. He hadn't been too excited to see that they'd be having some kind of squash soup, but it was really really delicious.

Even better than Flack's cooking, not that he'd ever mention that for fear of never being invited over for grill night again.

He had never seen so many appetizers at a meal, at least not somewhere that wasn't a potluck. Occasionally he and Lindsay were served different dishes, so they sat close together on the characteristic curved booth seats and shared bites of their food with each other. But this soup, this was excellent. She was lucky that she had gotten her own bowl, because he wasn't sharing his.

"Isn't it?" Lindsay agreed, blowing gently over a spoonful. "It's like nothing I've ever tried before."

"They don't have places like this in Montana?"

She rolled her eyes, but still grinned at him. "No, nothing like this. Going to a fancy restaurant back home meant going to Olive Garden."

"Ouch," he pretended to shudder at the thought. Not that Olive Garden was bad, but it wasn't the pinnacle of fine dining either. "You realize that if Stella hears that she'll make it her mission to take you to all the best authentic Italian restaurants in the city, don't you?"

"So I've been told. Adam told me he once mentioned to her that the closest he'd gotten to Greek food was a gyro at the mall back when he lived in Phoenix."

"Oh, man. I remember that." Danny laughed, thinking back to when it happened. "I think Stella took him to a different restaurant every day for a week. It was all he could talk about."

"Apparently Kendall was a little jealous over it."

"You're kidding, right? Kendall?" He shook his head. "I mean, I know that Adam had a bit of a crush on her, kinda like he does with Stella, but I was pretty sure that she didn't, you know, reciprocate."

"I think she liked being the center of his attention," she explained as she stirred her soup to help it cool. "So when he started spending all of that time with Stella he wasn't paying as much attention to her as he had been."

"Wow. I guess I completely missed that. Is that why she switched shifts?"

"Maybe." Lindsay shrugged, sipping another spoonful of her soup. "She still kind of flirts with him when she sees him. Jane thinks that maybe Kendall is more interested in him than everyone thought."

"Hmm..."

"What?" Lindsay tipped her head to the side as she watching him mull over a thought.

"Nothing, I was just crossing a name off a list," he said quickly, trying to downplay his comment.

"List?"

"Yeah." He shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. "Flack's seeing someone. And with as tight-lipped as he has been when asked about it, I think it's someone we work with."

"So you were thinking maybe Kendall?"

"Well," he hesitated. "She was a possibility, though she doesn't really seem his type."

"She's probably more his type than Devon was." Lindsay said.

"Maybe." He shrugged at her quizzical look. "This is Flack we're talking about. He's more interested in a good time than a serious relationship. So, you know, he goes for the women that he has nothing in common with. Because it probably won't last." He paused at the frown she game him, then clarified. "It's a guy thing."

"If that's the case, I can't see him dating someone from work." She responded, frowning. "Too much in common. Not to mention the problems they could have if they didn't work out."

"Yeah. Maybe he's gotten back with Devon and doesn't want anyone to know about it."

Lindsay's eyes grew wide in horror at that thought. "I hope not. Stella would never let him hear the end of it."

::

"How's Sam doing?"

His forkful of his entree, the Calotte de Boeuf Grillée, was halfway to his mouth when she asked, and for a moment he wanted pretend he didn't hear her and continue eating. But only for a moment. He carefully set his fork down and replied. "She's doing better. We had a long talk a couple weeks ago. She-" He paused, looking down at his plate while he formed his thoughts, then looked back over at her- "She doesn't know that I followed her that night. But we talked and her drinking did come up, so she told me she was attending meetings. I'm going to try to go with her to the open meeting next week."

"That'll be good for both of you. She needs to know that you're there for her." She said, reaching across the curved bench seat they shared and squeezing his hand. "Have you thought of attending any Al-Anon meetings?"

"Al-Anon?" He shook his head slowly. "Nah, that's not really for me-"

"It might not be a bad idea." Jess continued quickly before he could protest. "She's your sister and she's admitted to you to being an alcoholic. You're feeling guilty about it - that you didn't notice it sooner, that you always dismissed her as being the black sheep and troublemaker in the family without noticing an underlying factor. You worry that you contributed to it, that she felt she had to measure up to a certain standard set by your family, one that in her eyes you measured up to but she didn't. You're worried about striking the right balance between supportive without being oppressive. But you aren't the only one. There are other family members of other alcoholics who feel the same way about their loved ones. It could help to be able to talk and meet with them."

He looked away. Everything she mentioned was true, coming from conversations he'd had with her since he first found out about Sam's alcoholism. He'd stopped by Jess' that night instead of walking home, which had surprised her since they'd just seen each other. But they stayed up and talked almost all night long, or rather he talked and she listened. She was right, though, it helped to talk about those things with her. It might also help to talk about them with other people feeling the same way about their family members. Don looked back up at her, squeezing the hand that still held hers. "You're right. How did you end up knowing so much about this?

"My best friend in high school. Her dad was an alcoholic." She played with her spoon a bit before continuing quietly. "I went with her to a few of the meetings. If you wanted to, I could..."

"Yeah," he squeezed her hand again, "I think I'd like that."

She smiled widely, scooting across the bench seat closer to him and wrapping her arms around him. "Thank you." She said as she leaned her forehead against his. "Thank you for letting me in and trusting me with this. You want to be there for Sam, I get that. And I want to be there for you."

"You have been, Jess, you have been." He slipped his arm around her as the waiter approached to remove their plates and informed them that the dessert courses would be coming shortly. Jess, who had nestled her head against his shoulder, groaned softly.

"I'm not certain I have room for any more food."

"So you're going to make me eat yours?" He asked with a grin.

"Ha! Don't you dare touch my dessert." She retorted as she pulled away and gave him a mock glare while brandishing her fork. "You keep your fork to yourself."

He laughed heartily, with his head tipped back and noticed a familiar couple coming down the steps from the second tier. Leaning close to Angell's ear, he said quietly, "Don't look now, but Messer and Monroe are leaving."

"You know, I still can't believe they ended up here tonight, too."

::

"I can't believe the amount of food we had," Lindsay said as they stood to leave. Or, at least, as Danny stood to leave, she thought to herself while she tried to maneuver her way out of the curved bench seat of their booth. While she didn't want to sound bitter, there really were times when she thought seahorses had the right idea - let the male deal with the pregnancy and giving birth, she was tired of the swollen ankles, insane cravings and feeling like she was constantly lumbering around like beached whale.

"Hey, here, let me help." She looked up to see Danny offering his hand to help her up. "You okay?"

Then again, he always seemed to know how she was feeling and always managed to be completely wonderful whenever she needed him.

"Thanks," she sighed, wishing she didn't get so tired so easily anymore, as she took his hand and he helped her up. "I'm fine. Maybe a little overwhelmed, this has been incredible."

"And tired." He said, slipping his arm around her waist as they made their way to the door. "Don't think I didn't see you stifling that yawn."

"I'm fine, really." She smiled up at him, trying to look anything but tired. Even in her own head it sounded cliched, but she didn't really want the night to end. This was the best date she'd had in a long while. They were doing so much better now, really connecting with one another. It made her not want to leave him alone.

"C'mon, I'll take you home." Danny said as they walked to the car.

"We don't have to call it a night just because of me," she said quickly. "I don't have to be in until noon tomorrow."

"Hey," he turned to her, wrapping both arms around her back and pulling her close so she could feel the baby pressing against him. "All I had planned for tonight was for us to go and get some great food. We've done that part. Besides, I don't want to wear either of you out."

"I know," she said softly as she leaned against him while they started walking again.

It had started to snow when they reached her building, the flakes coming down lightly as they quickly made their way inside. He walked her to her door, his arm around her the entire time.

"You know," she said as she unlocked her door, "it's snowing outside. You should probably come in and stay a while. Just think, if you went back out there you could catch your death of a cold. And then where would I be?"

"Uh-huh." He grinned as he leaned against her door jam. "It's barely coming down outside. You're just saying that because you want someone to massage your feet."

"Well, I wouldn't say no to a foot massage," Lindsay rolled her eyes and shook her head as she spoke, before becoming more serious and reaching out to splay her hands on his lapels. "But that's not what I meant. I would really like for you to stay."

"In that case," he stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her, and kissed her deeply as he walked her backwards through her door and kicked it shut behind him. "I'd be happy to."

::

"I think I may have to let you take me out for the best food I've ever tasted more often," Jess said as they stepped out onto the sidewalk and into the light snow.

"So you liked it, huh?"

"Are you kidding? I'm pretty sure it even beat out your cooking. And that's saying a lot."

Don laughed, putting his arm around her shoulder as the crossed the street. "I think there was a compliment in there somewhere."

"Of course there was. You have good taste. C'mon." She veered off the main sidewalk onto one of the paths running through the small park opposite the restaurant, catching his hand as his arm slid off her shoulder. "I don't know about you, but I need to walk off a bit of what we ate."

"In the snow?"

"This? It's hardly snowing. Besides, the path through here will wind around to your car. We'll get there, it'll just take a bit longer." She said, glancing back at him over her shoulder with a challenging look in her eye. "Coming?"

"I just don't want you to ruin your dress." He explained as he caught up, his fingers enlaced with hers. "It is a rather nice dress."

"Thank you. And it'll be fine, a little snow shouldn't hurt it." They walked through the park hand in hand, slowly meandering down the path as she explained to him just how Ross managed to crack their case wide open for them earlier that day. "If he hadn't realized the connection, we wouldn't have known the main suspect in that case was the same as in ours. As it is, his confession hinted that there were more. I'm going to have to interview him again, tomorrow, I think. To see if there really are more cases that we can link to him."

"If you need a hand," he offered, "I can help out. I know how much fun it is to wade through cold files."

"Better watch out, or I may take you up on that." She bumped her shoulder against his as she teased him.

"Of course, then you'd owe me," he pointed out. "And I don't come cheap."

"You don't?" She smirked at him as she spoke. "Because I could have sworn--"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. She was lightly shivering under her coat. He was beginning to feel the cold, too. "I bet you're going to say I walked right into that one."

"Something like that."

"C'mon," he said as he tugged on her hand to pull her back down the path and towards the car. "It's getting chilly. And I can think of other ways to work off all of that food."


End file.
